Escape from Ferenginar
by Melrick
Summary: Ferenginar is in civil war, and Timan Raylan has found himself stuck on the planet. But when a mysterious person turns up, is this his key to freedom or is he in even more trouble than before? Revised
1. Chapter 1

Title: Escape from Ferenginar  
  
Author: Melrick )  
  
Copyright (c) 2003 Melrick  
  
Synopsis: Ferenginar is in civil war, and Timan Raylan has found himself stuck on the planet. But when a mysterious person turns up, is this his key to freedom or is he in even more trouble than before?  
  
Disclaimer: The Star Trek universe is owned by Paramount and no copyright infringement is intended or implied. The characters in this story, though, are owned by me. You do NOT have permission to distribute this to pay sites. If distributed, you must leave everything intact, including this header.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Timan Raylan sat at a table in a darkened corner of some fleapit bar. The 'fleapit' was appropriately named "The Broken Arm" and was situated on Ferenginar. It certainly wasn't the planet to be on at that moment.  
  
The bar's name was appropriate because fights were a common occurrence, and injuries like broken arms weren't unheard of. In fact, death was no stranger to the establishment. From the outside it looked filthy and run down; from the inside, it was worse. It was poorly lit and poorly cleaned; the smell of stale alcohol, sweat and vomit seemed to exude from the very woodwork. Looking around, Timan could see about half a dozen others from various races as they sat around small tables, looking sullenly at their alcohol. Most of them were either drunk or working hard at it. One pair was busy playing cards on the far side of the room. One of them was drunk; the other seemed busy fleecing his friend of his money. The drunken state of his companion meant it was rather unlikely he would even notice he was being cheated and, from the sick pallor of his face, would probably pass out fairly soon. There were no Ferengi drinking; only the tougher Ferengi drank there on a regular basis, and the occasional non-regular Ferengi that dropped by did so only out of desperation.  
  
The unusually large Ferengi barman - large in height and girth - suddenly caught sight of Timan's empty glass and hurried over to him.  
  
"Another shot of Gamzain wine, sir?" asked the Ferengi with an expectant grin.  
  
"Sure, why not," came the weary reply.  
  
"Perhaps you'd like me to leave the whole bottle, sir?" An even bigger grin cracked his face, revealing a surprisingly shiny set of pointy teeth. Surprising, considering the dirty appearance of the rest of him.  
  
"How much?" he asked without any hope of ever being able to afford it. 'This should be interesting,' he thought to himself.  
  
"Three strips, sir." The grin got even bigger.  
  
"Three strips! Of Latinum? You must be kidding! That's bloody robbery!" He knew it was going to be expensive but that was ridiculous, even for a Ferengi.  
  
"Well, these are troubled times, sir, as I'm sure you know. Getting supplies isn't as easy as it use to be. So, do you want me to leave the bottle or not?" The grin had suddenly evaporated.  
  
"No. Not unless it's suddenly free." He gave barman a sick-looking grin.  
  
"Funny joke, sir. Now, if you won't be drinking or eating anything, might I recommend you leave my establishment?" No hint of a smile now. A glance down to the phaser on the barman's right hip - clearly set to kill - convinced Timan not to argue. He would probably have been able to break the Ferengi's neck before he'd had a chance to go for his phaser - maybe - but that would certainly draw way too much attention. And getting attention was something he would most like to avoid right now. Besides, he really couldn't be bothered. So he stood up and shuffled out the door into the cold night air, the barman watching him all the way. Strangely, it wasn't raining at the moment. But for a race that had 178 words for rain, you knew it had either just stopped raining or was just about to start.  
  
Timan pulled his collar up and wandered down the dark street, not surprised any more by how empty the streets were at night. A sudden explosion a short distance away had him diving into a doorway. He quickly realised it wasn't as close as he had at first thought, nor was it as big, just very loud. As his heart began to slow to a normal pace again, he began to curse his luck. And not for the first time since arriving on Ferenginar.  
  
His reason for being on Ferenginar hadn't been one made through choice. He had been caught smuggling illegal contraband, including weapons, to Ferenginar. He had been smuggling for years and he had never been caught. But this time he had been set up. He was caught on Ferenginar, put on trial, and sentenced to ten years' in jail. The Federation had apparently been happy with the arrangement, making no request to transfer him to a Starfleet jail.  
  
That was bad enough, but then a civil war broke out twelve months into his incarceration. It apparently started with the Grand Nagus making a series of catastrophic financial deals, which almost completely bankrupted the Ferengi economy overnight. That's bad enough for any race, but for Ferengis it was utterly devastating. And the result of this economic collapse was the Ferengis splitting up into two main groups: Those who wanted the Grand Nagus removed - preferably dead - and those who remained loyal to him. When the fighting had broken out in earnest, Timan had found himself able to escape from prison, thanks to all the confusion. Now his priority was to get off Ferenginar, which wasn't going to be easy.  
  
He had found out that the Federation had ordered all starships to keep clear of Ferenginar. The Federation had seemingly left the Ferengis to their fate, taking a neutral stance over the matter. So almost the only ships coming and going were Ferengi, and they were almost exclusively war ships rather than merchant ships. And the merchant ships that did arrive were very well escorted and protected. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, and that's exactly how it had been turning out. So far he had spent about three weeks trying to avoid the fighting and the authorities while still looking for a ship to escape on. So far, no luck with a ship. He had come across the occasional Ferengi Marauder and even some modified Ferengi shuttles, but they were so well guarded that he had no chance of stealing them or sneaking on-board.  
  
Still thinking about his 'near miss', he stood up, dusted himself off and was on his way again. He'd been walking for close to half an hour when a sudden, "Hi, baby," startled him. He stopped and turned to his left as a piece of the shadow disengaged itself from the wall. A woman walked towards him, 'human,' he first thought, but then what little light there was illuminated the nose ridges as she stepped closer to him, identifying her as Bajoran. The outfit that was desperately clinging to her was a flimsy and filmy affair. It ended high on her thighs and was split all the way up the sides to her armpits. He wondered how the 'dress' was actually staying together before he noticed traces of thin but apparently strong thread crossing the five-centimetre gap. The top part of the ensemble was equally interesting, with the neckline plunging down to her navel. It seemed a miracle of science that the material was actually managing to cling to her ample bosom. Each step she took appeared to defy the very laws of physics by not allowing the seemingly inevitable of her 'dress' - if you could call it that - to suddenly and alarmingly becoming even more revealing. But the material clung tenaciously to her very attractive body in all the right places. Or all the wrong places, depending on how you looked at it.  
  
She stopped about a metre in front of Timan and, after striking a very sexy pose, winked at him in a most appealing way that said more than her words would be able to say. Unless she was particularly crude with her words, that is. "You look like you could use some fun, honey," she brought her face close to his, almost touching his nose, "and I know just how to help." The smell of her perfume, combined with the scent of spray-on pheromones designed to pluck at all the right sexual strings in a male, plucked firmly at his strings, drawing him deeper into her web. He was instantly hooked and would have happily picked her up and carried her to wherever her little hideaway was situated, and was about to do just that ... before he remembered his financial situation.  
  
"Um," he swallowed deeply, "I don't suppose you'd accept an IOU, would you?" Her right hand had been busy feeling up and down his thigh in an expert manner, but the instant it was obvious that he had no money, her attitude changed. She took a few steps backwards and began vigorously chewing on something.  
  
"Look, don't waste my time, honey. Come back when you've got some latinum, okay?" With that, she turned and began making her way back into the shadows again.  
  
"Hey," he called after her, "what's your name?"  
  
"Deela," came the reply.  
  
"I thought this sort of thing was against Bajorans' religion?"  
  
"We don't all believe in the Prophets, sweetie," she called back after disappearing back into the shadows once more.  
  
Timan sighed and started on his way again. 'If I get some latinum before I leave,' he thought, 'then I'm coming right back here.' He looked around, trying to familiarise himself with the surroundings so he could make his way back quickly.  
  
He'd been walking for no more than ten minutes before he was suddenly jumped from behind. If he had been paying attention instead of imagining what he could have been doing with Deela, then we would have heard the Ferengi police officers creeping up behind him. Unfortunately, the first thing he did hear was a phaser blast, just before he collapsed unconscious onto the ground. If he had spent just a few more seconds' conscious then he would have noticed that the rain had started to fall. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
The world according to Timan Raylan slowly stired him into consciousness. He opened his eyes and found the world swimming sickeningly. After closing his eyes again for a moment or two, he tried again. This time the world behaved more predicably and stayed still. Except it wasn't quite still. He found himself lying on his back, staring up at the cloudy night sky and the buildings passing him. As he turned his head slightly to one side, he realised he was being carried along - going headfirst - on an anti-grav device. He also noted two Ferengi walking along each side of him. He flexed his hands enough to realise he was being restrained. Doing the same with his legs produced the same result. Clearly he wasn't going to be able to get up and run any time soon.  
  
But that didn't stop him from trying to find a way to escape. He saw it as the job of every prisoner to try and escape, whatever the reason for imprisonment. Well, maybe not every prisoner. Himself, certainly. He tried to look around as much as possible while moving as little as possible. He thought he was doing quite well until one of the Ferengi spoke without looking at him.  
  
"You can look but you can't escape. The only way you could go anywhere is if you take off those restraints. And the only way you'll get those restraints off is to amputate your hands and feet. And that, I think, would make it a little tricky to run." It was only then that the one on Timan's right looked down at him and grinned a typically toothy Ferengi grin.  
  
He had no idea how long he'd been out for but it couldn't have been too long, he figured. If they'd had to go too far then they would have taken proper transport. He was trying to make a 'guesstimation' as they stopped in the street. His two captors were having a rather animated discussion, but since Timan couldn't understand Ferengi - and having no universal translator on him - he had no idea what they were talking about.  
  
They finally seemed to come to some kind of an agreement and moved off again. But instead of continuing down the street, they turned to Timan's left and into a building, pausing only to unlock and open the double doors. With the doors relocked behind them, they moved on to what Timan assumed was a backroom. It was at that time that Timan started to get a little worried.  
  
"Hey, what are you taking me here for? This doesn't look like a police building to me." The parts of the building he'd seen were almost completely devoid of furniture, and the furniture he could see seemed to have been abandoned there. There wasn't much dust around, though, so it was probably used for something, thought Timan. He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out just what they *did* use it for.  
  
"I said what...."  
  
"I know what you said, and if you don't shut up I'll vaporise your head." The Ferengi that had spoken to him before pointed a phaser at his head. Timan shut up. He was much more used to Ferengis that screamed in their typically high-pitched way and ran from any sign of trouble. These kinds of Ferengis were definitely no fun to be around.  
  
The two Ferengis appeared to then pick up the conversation where they left off outside. Timan watched with keen interest. Maybe they'd pull phasers on each other. But if that happened, they might vaporise each other, and his chance of getting out of these restraints would equally disappear.  
  
The conversation soon developed into an argument as they began pushing each other around. Suddenly, the Ferengi that had spoken to Timan - who, he suddenly realised, was quite tall for a Ferengi - drew his phaser again, pointed it at his partner and vaporised him.  
  
"Whoa," was all Timan could find to say. His mouth went dry as the remaining guard turned to Timan and looked down at him. But instead of vaporising him, he knelt down and - to Timan's amazement - removed the restraints.  
  
But he'd been alive too long and seen too many things to trust anybody too quickly, so he just laid there, without getting up.  
  
"Come on, on your feet, I'm sure you could do with a stretch," his once-captor said as he made his way to the front door and peered out through a spy-hole.  
  
And then something occurred to him. Since being on Ferenginar, he'd heard Ferengis talk in English, and without the aid of a Universal Translator, their English had always been heavily accented. But not this one. This one spoke in perfect English.  
  
Timan sat up, flexing his wrists and enjoying his newfound freedom. He still didn't know what to make of his new best friend, but he had to find out. He waited until he came back into the room. But before he could do more than open his mouth, his Ferengi friend spoke first.  
  
"You're a hard man to track down, Timan Raylan. I've spent over a week looking for you. Just when I thought I had you cornered, the trail went cold. Mind you, I had to keep this disguise and not blow my cover at the same time."  
  
"So ... just who the hell are you, then? If you're not a Ferengi then who - and what - are you? And why are you interested in me? And how do you know my name?" Now he was really confused, although the reason for the accent-free English was starting to become apparent.  
  
"Who I am is not important. But if you want a name then you can call me Bob."  
  
"Bob? You're not a man with great imagination, are you?" Bob ignored the jibe and continued.  
  
"You're right, I'm not a Ferengi - I'm human. I'm also from Starfleet, here to rescue your pathetic hide and take you back to Earth."  
  
"Really?" Timan was truly happy since perhaps he first set foot on this miserable planet. "But why would Starfleet want to rescue me? It's not like I'm a member of Starfleet or anybody important."  
  
"You're right again, you're not important. You'd be a complete nobody if it weren't for the fact that the public back on Earth found out a few Humans were trapped here thanks to the Civil War, and wanted them back. So Starfleet sent a secret mission to Ferenginar to retrieve those citizens. And you, my slippery little friend, are the last one; the others have returned home already."  
  
"So I'm finally getting out of this swamp and going home!" He had stood up by now and was getting ready to celebrate, when his new pal brought him back down to earth with a crashing thud.  
  
"Don't get too excited, buddy. You're not going home to freedom, you're going home to finish your sentence." He smirked as he saw the look of utter shock and disappointment engulf Timan's face.  
  
"What you're going to do," continued Bob, "is lay back down on the anti-grav sled. I'll put the restraints back on your wrists and ankles, because I don't trust that you won't try and escape. I'll then take you to my shuttle and be off, hopefully before anyone takes any notice."  
  
"But what if we run into any Ferengis?"  
  
"Then I'll just tell them I'm taking you away for interrogation."  
  
Timan nodded. The plan seemed okay. Besides, that's probably what he'd done with the others, and they all apparently left the planet okay. So Timan laid back down on the anti-grav sled and allowed Bob to put the restraints back on his wrists and ankles, with advice to not try and escape.  
  
"By the way, exactly where is your shuttle, anyway?" Timan asked. He was more curious than anything else, but he also realised it would be nice to know where it was in case something happened to Bob along the way, or he found an opportunity to escape.  
  
Bob glanced at him a moment before answering. "If you're simply dying to know then it's in the western sector of the city, about three kilometres from here, near the marketplace."  
  
Timan nodded his approval; he knew the place. There was a small almost-disused shuttle landing pad near there. The marketplace wasn't the famous Sacred Marketplace - which was in the centre of the city - but a small one that seemed to mostly contain smugglers, thieves and pickpockets. The landing pad itself was infrequently used and partially overgrown, and it's the one he would have picked. "I take it it's a Ferengi shuttle?"  
  
"Well it wouldn't be a Federation shuttle, now would it? Now shut up and get on the sled."  
  
With him in place, Bob pulled the sled out of the rather dingy building and set off in the direction of their waiting shuttle. It was still raining and the night air was cold enough to make their breaths visible. Timan shivered, wishing he could wrap his arms around himself, and hoping they would get to the shuttle quickly and easily.  
  
After covering approximately half the distance, Timan heard Bob swear quietly. Timan lifted his head a little to see two Ferengi military personnel walking towards them, both with phaser rifles slung over their shoulders. As they got closer, though, the rifles came off their shoulders and pointed directly at Bob.  
  
"Oh marvellous," said Timan, wishing now more than ever that he didn't have the restraints on. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Bob stopped and began speaking to the Ferengi. It didn't take long, though, for the conversation to become animated. Bob did his best to appear highly annoyed with the interruption, and Timan could imagine him threatening to report them for interrupting him in his duties. But it didn't seem to be working, because the rifles never wavered from the centre of his chest.  
  
Timan watched Bob slowly move away from the sled. It was slow and if you weren't watching for it then you'd swear it wasn't purposeful. Timan hadn't known Bob for long, but he thought he knew him well enough to know he realised the jig was up and was quickly making plans on how to get out of it.  
  
All of a sudden, Bob dived to one side and rolled; the Ferengis', taken by surprised, fired at him and missed. He came up with his Ferengi phaser out and immediately shot one Ferengi. Timan watched him crumple to the ground, and began to think maybe they'd get out of it after all.  
  
He saw Bob alter his phaser and realised that it must have only been on stun; it was almost certainly now on maximum kill.  
  
Timan was completely helpless to defend himself and felt horribly exposed. Phaser fire whizzed over and around him as the combatants dived and ran, constantly trading shots with each other. Bob was obviously highly skilled, but the Ferengi clearly was no slouch, either.  
  
Just then, the Ferengi shot at Bob and hit his phaser. He quickly dropped it as it began sending out sparks. It didn't vaporise, though, so the rifle obviously wasn't on maximum; it was all the evidence Timan needed that Bob's cover had been blown and they'd had orders to return him alive.  
  
Bob quickly recovered from loosing his phaser, though, and immediately dived for cover. The Ferengi, who had been completely ignoring Timan lying on the sled, now moved to stand beside him, with his rifle actually pointing over the top of his prone body. Timan saw an opportunity to even up the scores and kicked up with his still-shackled legs, kicking the rifle out of his hands and sending it flying.  
  
Bob immediately leapt out of his hiding place and charged the Ferengi. Just as he crashed into him, the Ferengi had taken out a dagger. Their bodies collided and they rolled around on the ground. Timan turned his head to watch them as best he could, as they apparently fought for control of the dagger.  
  
After several minutes of savage fighting, they both suddenly went still, Bob lying on top of the Ferengi. Timan's first thought was that they'd killed each other, and he'd be trapped right where he was until more Ferengi came to take him back into custody, or maybe even execute him. He was about to scream in frustration when Bob slid off the dead body of the Ferengi and laid down beside him, panting heavily. It was only then that Timan saw the growing red mark on Bob's chest, staining his tunic; he'd been stabbed in the chest.  
  
"Bob? Bob! Are you okay?" asked Timan anxiously.  
  
"Do I look okay to you?" he replied sarcastically, before coughing up blood, which splashed on his face and ran down his cheek and neck.  
  
"Bob, tell me the combination to the restraints so I can help you!"  
  
Bob tried to laugh but coughed up more blood instead. "You just want to escape," he finally managed to say.  
  
True enough, thought Timan, but he'd still try and help him. Before he could speak, though, Bob gave him the combination. He quickly took off the restraints and threw them aside. The thought to just make a run for the shuttle crossed his mind. He could do it; Bob was clearly in no shape to follow. But whatever he might be, he wasn't a killer. He also realised the shuttle would probably be locked. So he hurried over to his side.  
  
"Come on, Bob, I'll help you up. We've only got another kilometre or two to go."  
  
"Forget it, son. I'm not going to make it and I'd only slow you down," he said, coughing up yet more blood before giving him the combination to unlock the shuttle when he got to it, confirming Timan's suspicion of if being locked.  
  
"Rubbish. I'll put you on the sled and we'll be there in no time, you'll see." And with his mind made up, he dragged him over to the sled and put him on it. With him in place, he was just about to leave when he saw the Ferengi's phaser rifle lying nearby, so he hurriedly picked it up, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed the handle of the anti-grav sled and began to run. But the sled wasn't designed to move quickly, and the resistance it provided was more than he'd expected.  
  
After only a couple of hundred metres of ducking in and out of alleyways, hoping he wouldn't get lost, he slumped to the ground against a wall, panting heavily.  
  
"It's no good, Bob," he said through puffs of breath. "It'll be quicker if I carry you." But Bob didn't reply. He looked down at him and could no longer see his chest moving. Timan checked his pulse and breathing and found nothing; he was dead.  
  
He waited a few more moments, catching his breath and feeling ... he wasn't sure what he felt. Bob was only going to take him back home to prison, after all. And he didn't even know his real name. But this man had died trying to get him off this godforsaken planet. He hadn't known Timan and didn't care; he was just doing his duty.  
  
He placed a hand on his forehead. "You were an amazing man, Bob. A true hero." He knew he couldn't risk waiting any longer, though, so he stood, ready to leave. He'd been contemplating taking his body back with him anyway, but a siren suddenly went up over the city. The siren could have been for anything, but Timan knew it was because of him. Having no time to loose, he turned and ran, leaving Bob behind.  
  
Timan continued weaving in and out of alleyways and only managed to get momentarily lost a couple of times. He made sure he stayed close to the main road leading to the markets, though, because he knew if he strayed too deeply into the maze of back alleys then he'd be lost in them for days.  
  
Finally, Timan ran from an alley and saw the tables of the market area in front of him. They were closed at this time of night, but he now knew exactly where the shuttle pad was.  
  
But before he could go any further, he heard running footsteps and Ferengi voices behind him. He ran into the darkened markets just as a shot flew over his shoulder. Timan hid behind a table and looked around to see two Ferengi soldiers running towards him. Timan took a shot and hit one and watched him fall to the ground, stunned unconscious. The other took cover and returned fire, forcing Timan to abandon his position and move deeper into the markets.  
  
The Ferengi followed him into the markets and they began trading shots, firing over the covered and secured stalls. Several times Timan actually felt the heat off the blast as it only just missed his head. Timan hit the floor as another shot just missed him. He stayed there and kept watch, looking under the stalls. Just then, the Ferengi's legs came into view and Timan immediately took a shot. The first shot missed, but the second one didn't. The body of the Ferengi crumpled up and lay still on the cold floor. Timan immediately got up and ran from the markets.  
  
He hurried to the other side of them and ran down a partially lit road. The road quickly reached a T intersection and Timan turned right, then left. Off to the right was the small landing pad, with a Ferengi shuttle taking up much of the available space.  
  
With the sound of the siren still in his ears - and listening for more footsteps or voices - he ran over to the shuttle and placed his hands lovingly on the cold metal of the hull. He quickly moved to the hatch ... and stopped cold, forgetting the combination to gain access. He racked his brain, urging himself to remember, banging his hand on the hull as if that would some how shake the combination loose from his memory.  
  
He punched in two different combinations, both failing. He only had one chance left before the shuttle wouldn't accept any combination - even the correct one - for half an hour. His hand hovered over the pad as he cast his mind back to when Bob had told it to him. Closing his eyes, he tried to relive the moment, going through it moment by moment. Suddenly, the combination popped into his head. With a shaking hand, he carefully punched in each digit, not wanting to make an accidental mistake. Finally, as he hit the last digit, the hatch hissed open.  
  
Scrambling inside, he hurriedly started the shuttle, swearing at it as each second ticked by, urging it to hurry up. Finally, the shuttle was ready, and he quickly lifted up and took off.  
  
As he neared the edge of the planet's atmosphere, a warning beep alerted him to a ship approaching. Three modified shuttles were closing in, one taking a shot at him just as his shuttle broke free of the atmosphere. Another warning beep drew his attention to a Ferengi Marauder, already in orbit, rapidly approaching. With the other shuttles right behind him and still firing at him, he told the computer to head for the nearest piece of Federation space.  
  
He knew he wouldn't be able to remain in Federation space, not if he wanted to stay out of prison, but the least he could do was to send a report to Starfleet, telling them about 'Bob'.  
  
As the shuttle entered warp and left behind his pursuers, Timan decided to pick another career, something more legal this time. Well, mostly legal. Not something he would get caught at, anyway. Or maybe he would just do a bit more smuggling, just until he recouped his losses. And then he would definitely stop, no doubt about it. Unless he saw an opportunity too good to miss, then he'd be mad to pass it up!  
  
The End. 


End file.
